


Show You the Light

by Nocturne1980



Category: Black Panther (2018), Black Panther (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Child Death, F/M, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Restraints, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28771872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocturne1980/pseuds/Nocturne1980
Summary: Shuri and the Avengers enter Latveria to rescue Wanda only to find that things aren't quite what they seem.
Relationships: Loki/Shuri (Marvel), Shuri/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slowly putting up new stuff and reposting my old stuff. I watched WandaVision this morning and it reminded me of this story I posted a while ago. Granted this story is probably far darker than what will unfold with WandaVision and the main character here is Shuri, no Wanda. 
> 
> Warning: There is no happy ending here. I was inspired by Gothika. Please read the tags and be responsible.

“Look sharp, Doom-bot’s at your twenty.”

Shuri ripped the head off of the robot modeled after it’s creator, Victor von Doom, a second after Captain Rogers radioed his warning into her earpiece. Her vibranium tipped claws crunched into another Doom-bot moments later, slicing through both shoulder joints to leave the machine without arms.

They were everywhere. Shiny silver and green, eyes red. The rest of the Avengers seemed to be cutting through with as little effort as Shuri, their goal at the top of the north tower in an ancient-looking palace, Castle Doom, located in the sovereign country of Latveria. Doom was the ruler of this little backward hole in the wall country.

Officially, the Avengers were flying under the radar on this mission, seeing as it could very well instigate a war between Latveria and the US. Unofficially, they were prepared to do whatever it took to rescue their fellow teammate, Wanda Maximof, from where Doom had her imprisoned.

That Doom was even able to capture the Scarlet Witch was a testimony to how powerful he had become. Which was interesting considering his paltry defense system. Shuri made it to the tower before the rest of the team, scaling the stone wall with inhuman speed, pieces of rock falling back as she ascended.

It took two solid blows to shatter the window and make her entry, more Doom-bots charged down the illogically long hallway. Growl rumbling like the mantle she wore, Shuri cleared the floor of the machines, tossing the last one standing out the window behind her.

“I’m in.”

“Hold your position. We’ve got more heat on us down here. Do not engage Doom until you have backup.” Captain Rogers replied, the sound of more labored fighting passing through his com.

“I see where he’s holding her. The floor is clear of hostiles. I’m going in.”

“Stand down! You are _not_ equipped to take on Doom on your own.” His voice taxed with whatever effort he was exerting to reach her position.

“I’m not helpless. I am the Black Panther after all. Try to catch up.”

“Can the cockiness, kid. Doom is an A-game baddie. Wait for backup.” Tony chimed in.

Shuri ignored both men. She wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone other than Wakanda’s King and the Queen Mother. This made her the recipient of Captain Rogers’ lectures and P.T. punishments on more than a few occasions. It’s also the reason she’s left at the Avengers’ compound to sit out missions more often than not. It was a horrible character trait to have when you were a temporary member of a superhero team that required each member to obey the commands of their leader. But Shuri was born to royal privilege, a princess who was more adapted to others obeying her orders, not the other way around.

Steve was going to be pissed but just like all the times before when she had charged in and followed her gut, she’d come out on top again and save the day. Winning was a high she was forever chasing. Be it in her tech or when facing an opponent in battle. It felt good to conquer, to defeat. If T’challa were here instead of her they wouldn’t question the Black Panther’s ability. That’s okay. She’s getting used to people underestimating her. She’s also getting used to proving them wrong.

She kicked the massive double doors in, couching into a fighting stance when the doors thudded to the floor, knocked clear off the hinges. The room was empty. Completely. No furniture, no Doom-bots, no Doom, and no Wanda. Nothing. Just stone walls and floors.

“Captain Rogers, there’s nothing here,” she called.

No response from Captain Rogers.

She scanned the room, rapidly flipping her panther suit’s vision through different spectrums, trying to catch a secret passage or clue as to why Wanda was not here. Shuri was in the right place, she could _feel_ it.

Scanning again her eyes caught light glinting off of a tiny bit of metal in a far corner of the room. Making her way across the floor the sound of battle was now ominously missing. Shuri crouched down to inspect the object but it wasn’t a switch to a hidden passage or anything that made sense. It was a buckle with a bit of white cloth attached to it, frayed at the ends like it had been ripped off of its source. When she reached to pick it up it flickered, like a light quickly going off then on again, a shadow but then solid once again.

“Guys, you need to get up here and see this. There’s--”

But Shuri didn’t have a chance to notify the team of what she’d found. A blinding blow to the back of her head sent her reeling forward. _Only a weapon made of vibranium could yield such results against her suit._ That was her last conscious thought before she slipped into darkness. Not even able to see who was stealthy enough to take the Black Panther unawares.

oOo

Shuri woke up to the painful pounding of blood in her head. She could literally feel her pulse in those agonizing beats. Groaning, she attempted to open her eyes, harsh light making it a slow process. When she did manage to crack first one and then another slowly open, it was to find that her face was no longer encased in her suit. Raising a hand to block out the bright light shining down Shuri took in her surroundings.

She was no longer in the room where she’d been struck down. This room was as white as the lights that lit it up, walls padded with some type of cushion instead of the stone of the original room. The floor was made of the same material, dimpled in like a couch throw. Shuri sat up and had to catch herself on the soft wall when dizziness caused the room to spin. Once the world had stopped spinning she noticed that she too was dressed in white. _Doom had taken her clothes off?_ Rage simmered to the surface at the thought. Oh, she was going to make him pay for that.

Still feeling a little dizzy and headache robbing her of focus, Shuri continued to look around. There wasn’t much to see. No furniture but one side of the room had what looked to be a door, also covered in the white cushion material. There was a small glass square at the top of it but no handle.

Stumbling, she made her way over to it, feet bare. It was too high for her to look through without jumping up and when she did just that dizziness overtook her again leaving her to collapse panting on the floor. Trying to calm her breath, Shuri methodologically processed her injuries and situation. Doom had captured her. He had the panther suit, so she was weaponless. No broken bones. No lacerations that she can feel. Definite concussion. Possible internal contusions. She’s in better condition to escape than the pain in her head is trying to ache her out of. She just needed to rest, to get rid of the damn headache so she could regroup and think.

If Doom had her and Wanda it’s totally possible that he had the other Avengers as well. She’d need her wits about her if she was going to get out of this one. _Should have listened to Tony and Steve,_ she thought begrudgingly.

Shuri allowed herself to rest, closing her eyes where she lay. She was unsure of how long she had slept when she woke back up but her headache was all but gone, and that’s all that mattered for the moment. Her stomach rumbled loudly. Must have been a long sleep. Shuri always scarfed down a large meal before a mission. It helped with the enormous appetite the heart-shaped herb gave her. She had a much larger caloric requirement as a panther than she had as merely a princess. Physical exertion made it worse.

The sound of wheels rolling on hardwood snapped her attention outside the room. The click of heels followed it and the sound stopped just outside the door. Shuri moved from the opening, putting herself in a corner of the room, giving her a better positional advantage over whoever was turning the lock on the other side of the door.

Adrenaline revved, the door swung out, and Shuri rushed forward and skidded, as much as cushions allow, to a halt. Her brow came together in confusion she was met with the candied smile of a nurse, starched white dress and cap, carrying a tray of food.

“My, aren’t you feeling much better today, sunshine. Lucid and everything. I’ve brought you something to fill that hungry belly right up.”

It’s not her words or the sugary sweet expression on the woman’s face that startled Shuri to become completely motionless. Her name tag read Nurse Romanova and standing directly behind her, next to her food cart, were two mountain size men dressed in white shirts and slacks, and black bow ties. The men had name tags of their own, Orderly Rogers and Orderly Barnes. They didn't have the nurse’s inviting expression. In fact, they were glaring with open hostility at Shuri, arms crossed over their muscled chests.

Shuri took several cautious steps backward.

“Natasha? What’s—what’s going on?”

The redhead cocked her head to the side and tutted. “Still not feeling better, I see. Well, that’s alright. We’ll get you fed and let you get back to resting, okay? Now have a seat and clean your plate.” She stepped into the room and set the tray down on the floor.

“Oh, _Bast._ He got to you too. How many of us did Doom get?” Shuri’s mind was racing with the implications.

“We’re not going to have to force you to eat, are we?” The mask of pleasantness slid off her face, replaced with hard resolve. “Dr. Stark warned that if you continued to carry on about this Doom and your other delusions we don’t need his permission to get you to comply.”

“Doom has you under some kind of hypnosis—or mind control. You’ve got to remember who you are so we can get out of here.”

Natasha slipped her hand into one of the square pockets of her dressed removing a pair of latex gloves. She put them on, making a pop sound when each glove was in place. Shuri backed up, sensing something horrible was about to happen. She didn’t want to have to hurt her friend but she would do whatever it took to get them out of there, even if it meant rattling Nat around to get her to come to. She just hoped she could restrain herself enough not to hurt any of the Avengers. With the power of the heart-shaped herb, she could easily snap a neck if she weren’t careful.

“I’m the head nurse of this ward and you are a very sick woman that we’re tasked with helping recover.”

“No. You’re Na--.”

“Natasha Romanova. A top assassin and member of an elite group of superheroes. And Orderlies Barnes and Rogers are too. Sunshine, we’ve done this so many times it’s starting to break my heart.” Natasha went to the cart and retrieved a second tray. This one contained tubing, a bottle of liquid, scissors, and a funnel. Steve and Bucky followed her back inside.

Shuri’s eyes darted from the tray to her three teammates.

“Restrain her,” Natasha said, voice dispassionate, cold.

Steve and Bucky moved forward, hands grabbing for her arms. Shuri was faster, ducking under Steve’s right shoulder and darting for the door. Natasha reached for her too and missed. The hall was lined with other doors just like hers. Rooms were other captives were no doubt kept. She couldn’t stop though. Each door required a key and Shuri needed to find a way out before her brainwashed teammates caught up with her. She’d find a way to get them out after she saved herself.

Bare feet padded on wood, toes digging in. She made it to the end of the hall and was turning a corner when she collided into someone, her face buried in a white lab coat.

“Whoa, whoa. No running off.”

It was Tony. His arms locked around her before she could push back, trapping her hands between them as he lifted her up despite her fierce struggling and carried her back towards her cell.

“You’re under the influence of Doom’s mind control. You have to snap out of it!”

“We were making such progress, Princess. It’s alright. Relax, relax.”

She couldn’t relax. Not when Doom had warped the minds of her team and turned them against her. There was more at play here though. She was using all of her considerable strength against Tony who lacked any superhuman abilities yet he continued to hold her in an iron grasp, with no more difficulty than if he were restraining a small child. He turned her around easily so that she was now facing forward.

“Let me go!” she railed, arching her back to get away when Tony sat down on the cushioned floor and put her between his legs, crossing his on top of hers, her back against his chest. His hands were holding her wrists tightly to her own chest.

“Rogers, help me would you?” Tony called past her ear.

Steve squatted down and put his hands on either side of Shuri’s head, holding her still.

“What are you doing? What—what.” but Shuri’s panicked questioned was answered when she saw Natasha come forward with the tubing.

“Tilt her head back a little,” she said. Steve did just that.

“Relax, Princess. Just take deep breaths through your mouth and relax. This will all be over quickly.”

The tube pressed into her nostril like a sickening announcement. Natasha worked it up and down, drawing out screeches of torment from Shuri. She felt every inch of movement as the tube made its way into her stomach.

“Please...please stop,” she wailed, tears coursing down her cheeks.

“Almost there—there. It’s in. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Natasha smiled, leaning back to grab the bottle and funnel. Shuri sobbed in shocked disbelief at what was happening.

Tony continued to hold her secured against his body but Steve let go, standing over them to watch as Natasha attached the funnel to the tube, holding it up high so she could pour whatever was in the bottle down it. Dark green and thick.

Shuri could feel the liquid sliding down the tube and into her, alien and disconcerting. Tremors shook her body in the tenuous calm that now existed.

Tony sighed. “I hate these low places, kid, but on the road to recovery, setbacks are to be expected. Don’t worry. We’ll get you clear-headed again.”

He held her for so long that her legs fell asleep, held her until all of the swamp green fluid had drained in. The urge to swallow was continuous. There was nothing to swallow. They’d already forced it in her. She coughed and choked on the tube until she was able to subdue the feeling.

“Leave it in. We might need to use it again for dinner.” Tony said.

Natasha nodded and Shuri watched as she taped the tube to the side of her face cutting off much of the excess. The nurse and her two orderlies packed up and exited the room, shutting the door. Shuri was alone with Tony who had yet to release her.

“Now, I’m going to let you go but only if you promise to not attack me. Can you do that, Princess?”

The head nod she gave him caused discomfort along where the tubing lie. The small gesture was enough for him to get up, straightening his rumpled lab coat and skewed glasses after he was standing.

“Let’s begin as we usually do. The basics.” He pushed his lab coat back and put a hand in his pants pockets. “Do you know where you are?”

Did it matter what she said? She was discombobulated from the force-feeding, sick with fear over what Doom had planned next. _Bast_ , she couldn’t even fight them off. It was a helplessness she was wholly unaccustomed to. Playing along might be the wisest route but she still held out hope she could trigger something in her teammates' hindbrain to wake them up to reality.

“Latveria. Castle Doom,” she croaked, throat dry and achy. “We were—attempting to rescue Wanda—our teammate.”

“You’re at Shield Facilities in upstate New Hampshire. I can see your eyes lighting up at the word ‘shield’ but this is not a secret government agency that polices super-humans. We help regular people, who just so happen to be mentally ill, to get better. People like you.”

“And who do you think I am, Tony?” she asked.

“You are Princess S—.” he stopped and began again.” You are Dr. Princess Brown. Use to be one of my colleagues here until your impulsiveness led you down this path you’re currently on. No, you are not a princess from a hidden African country. No, you do not possess super abilities granted to you by a ‘heart-shaped’ plant. You are just a once brilliant doctor who thought taking drugs could put her on top of her game but all it did was make a mess of your brain.” He tapped his temple to emphasize.

Shuri stood, legs shaky.

“I am Shuri of the Golden Line. Daughter of T’chaka. Second heir to the throne of Wakanda and current Black Panther for our nation. Tell Doom I’m not susceptible to his parlor tricks. I will find a way out of here and when I do I’m taking every Avenger he’s holding captive with me.”

Tony sighed and tucked his lips into his mouth, his face reading as clearly disappointed in her response.

“I’m going to let you rest now. You deserve it after what you’ve been through. Hell, I deserve it. I—care about you, Princess. If you don’t believe anything else I say for now, just know that. I want to see you get well.”

She had no further words for him and he apparently felt the same. What was the use in continuing when Doom had him utterly convinced he was something he wasn’t? She needed to bide her time and figure out a way to escape. There was no way Doom had all of the Avengers. After Tony left she sank back down to the floor and put her head in her hands, praying fervently that Doom hadn’t captured all of the Avengers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing the next parts, should post soon.

Shuri nodded off but was snapped fully alert when the door opened, Natasha and her wheeled cart on the other side. This time instead of smiles and a tray of steaming food, she walked in all business, Steve and Bucky behind her. Shuri was restrained once again as Natasha poured another bottle of green liquid down the tubing. It was disconcerting, making her slightly nauseated but at least it didn’t hurt like when the tube was shoved in. The compulsion to swallow what wasn’t there arose again and she fought it back with deep breaths.

When the trio left Shuri held herself up on her hands and knees, clutching her stomach as it cramped in protest. Gritting her teeth she gripped the tube between her thumb and forefinger, pulling it out quickly, gagging and whining at the same time, eyes flooded with tears. The slick plastic was tossed across the room when done.

So far she knew Doom had six Avengers. That left Thor, Bruce, Sam, Vision, and Peter unaccounted for. He captured over half of their team and had somehow managed to strip her of her abilities. Not to mention that he has her suit somewhere. That alone was a formidable weapon but to possess the mind of someone with powers such as Wanda—it was unthinkable the amount of harm he could wield with her alone. If Doom was able to turn Shuri’s mind then he would have access to all she knew. Wakanda would be nearly defenseless if her knowledge was turned against them. She couldn’t allow that.

Searching the room turned up nothing. She lacked the strength to pull up the cushions tethered to the walls and floors. Her gut told her that the door was the only way out but her usually spot-on gut instinct had most recently failed her and was the reason she was in this mess.

Time stretched. The hum of lights became increasingly apparent as she waited. The humming had no pattern or cadence to which she could measure time. Feet moved down the hall, clicking past her door without stopping. This happened a few times. She fell asleep and woke up to the pressing need to urinate. Banging on the door and announcing she needed to use the toilet didn’t get her a response so she buried her pride and squatted in a corner of the room. Shuri refused to focus on her dignity diminishing at the sound of fluid streaming onto fabric.

It felt like it’d been longer than a day. Maybe two days since she first woke up in the padded room. Her stomach growled again and the room started to smell like ripe urine but Natasha didn’t return. There’s nothing to do but sleep, so she did. She slept so much that it exhausted her. The lights never went out or dimmed so it was hard to tell the time of day.

She closed her eyes once more as sleep invited a welcome escape.

oOo

_Warm lips, wet and creeping, graze up the column of her neck and she can’t—she can’t see who they belong to because the room is too dark and the presence comes from behind._

Where am I? How—how did I get--

_She can’t be sure if she’s spoken the words out loud._

_A confused whimper and the cage of a large hand slides over her mouth, damning up the flood of questions that arise._

_There’s a body behind her. A leg trapping her legs down to a soft surface._

_Why is it so dark? Why is her head spinning and—_

_When she tries to pry the hand from her face she’s faced with the obstacle of lifting her heavy limbs. An internal hindrance that makes it feel like she’s lifting a truck when it’s just her own hand._

_Lips move down and down—and_

_This isn’t right. This is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong._

_Hysteria beckons._

“ _Shhh...be good. You want this.”_

_But she doesn’t. Haze and confusion settle over. The hand tugging insistently, lifting her shirt up her back feels alarming—feels good—but even in the fog, she knows this isn’t something she wants._

“ _Sweet...”_

_That voice, purring and seductive, she knows it. She knows--_

Shuri awoke on a strangled cry rising up, fists clenching the tangled sheets around her. The room was dark enough to not stress newly rested eyes but enough light crept in from the covered windows that she knew she was no longer in the dark void of her dream.

She was surrounded by muted white. As her eyes focused and she became more fully awake she could see that it was more gray than white. Images jumbled together in her mind as she tried to reconcile what she was seeing with what she expected to see.

The bedroom was pristine and furnished with sleek expensive-looking furniture that was at odds with the empty padded cell she’d fallen asleep in. In the distance, she could hear water hitting tile and the distinct sounds of a body moving about in a shower.

She looked down at herself and saw that she was dressed not in dull patient garb but in a slinky negligee, soft pink and striking against her dark skin and the white bedding. Her heart sped up when the twinkling of jewelry caused her to relax her fist and take note of the diamond wedding bands on her left hand.

She was so wrapped in confusion she missed the sound of the shower turning off and the footfalls that followed.

“Good morning, sweet pea. Sorry if I woke you. I got a text from Bruce. They need me to work a rotation today.”

Shuri looked up from the rings to see a naked Tony Stark standing near the bed toweling his wet hair dry. Her eyes widened as she took in his well-muscled and slightly damp body before quickly averting her gaze when her gaze unconsciously traveled down his chest to his waist to his...

“I know I promised you we’d take the boat out but I’ll make it up to you.”

She couldn’t manage words as Tony talked while he dressed, too shaken by Tony’s nudity and the unexpectedness of no longer being in her cell. They moved her while she slept and placed her in this new location but to what end?

When she looked his way again he was wearing slacks and had slipped a button-down over a plain white t-shirt. He buttoned up the front of the shirt while standing in front of a mirror over a dresser. A gold band shone on his left ring finger.

“Heads up, I already took Jarvis for his walk while you were asleep so he should be good for a few hours. When I come home we can go get dinner at that African restaurant we both love.”

It was all so surreal. She glanced back at the rings on her finger.

Once he’d tucked his shirt and put on a belt he came to sit on the bed by her side, holding out his wrists with a grin. It took her a stunned moment to realize he meant for her to button his cuffs. She did so clumsily, desperate to understand what the hell was going on.

Her hands dropped to her lap when she was finished but Tony remained sitting next to her.

“I’m the one who talked you into this vacation and here I am going in to work. You’re not mad at me are you?” He leaned in and pulled one of her hands towards him. Tony had never held her hand before and she was surprised at how natural it felt.

“No. I’m not mad.” She’d learned her lesson yesterday. Play along. _Don’t let on that you know things are wrong._

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “I wish I could've woken you up properly.” His eyes danced across her face. “I made coffee so that’ll have to do for the time being.”

Shuri had no idea what a proper waking up entailed but she didn’t like the hooded way he was looking at her now, leaning in like he wanted to kiss her. She scooted back into the plush pillows and he raised a brow at her gesture.

“You _are_ mad. It’s okay. I deserve that.” He ended with a sigh, rising from the bed. “I’ll see you went I get home.”

Shuri remained where she was, the sounds of Tony leaving muffled and distant. She got up when she heard the click of a car door shutting and the easy purr of an engine. At the window she drew back the curtains to see that she was on the second level, a long driveway stretched out belong, Tony waving up at her from a silver Benz as he pulled off.

That was it?

She rushed out of the bedroom hardly believing that it would be that easy but on the first floor there were no orderlies or Doom-bots, just a brown and white terrier who sniffed her fingers and licked in greeting. Bending over Shuri held the tag hanging around its neck and read ‘Jarvis’ engraved in gold lettering.

“Jarvis, eh?” She ruffled the dog's neck fur and he barked in acknowledgment.

The dog tilted its head curiously as Shuri opened the front door. When she moved to step outside it tried to follow her but she clucked her tongue at him.

“I don’t think so. You stay here.” She commanded, closing the door behind her. For all she knew Jarvis was a Doom-bot. Maybe it was programmed to keep an eye on her while she was given the illusion of freedom.

Her bare feet hit stone warmed by the morning sun. She felt no compulsion to find more suitable clothing for her exploration. The weather was warm, an early morning breeze catching her skin. As she stepped away from the house she took in her surroundings. A normal upper middle-class neighborhood with well-manicured lawns and street signs that by their name and indication of direction let her know she was somewhere in North America.

She followed the sidewalk getting a few odd looks from a woman jogging past and an elderly man trimming his hedges. At some point she expected the neighborhood to end and reveal that this was some elaborate setup and she was really still in Latveria. The residential roads eventually did end but not as she thought. Shuri walked until she was presented with a major road filled with buzzing vehicles. Businesses sprawling in the distance.

She stood at the intersection taking in everything with a sense of falling dread. None of it made sense. Shuri couldn’t reason the how or why of what she was seeing. So far she’d covered a few miles on foot and everywhere she went conflicted with what she knew to be her situation.

Ignoring the honking horns of cars as she ran across the busy road, Shuri bee-lined to a gas station on the other side. More odd looks were cast her way when she walked inside the storefront.

“Can I help you, miss?” A teenage attendant asked, eyes raking down to her bare feet.

Shuri ignored him as her eyes were drawn to a magazine rack near the cash register. Stacked in neat rows were multiple magazines that ranged from gossip mags to fitness ones. It wasn’t any of those that had her locked where she stood, reaching out with quick movements to grab a publication from the rack. Among the magazines were two stacks that were shorter than the rest. Comic books.

“You an Avenger fan?” he asked.

Shuri flipped through the pages, mute. Images of her teammates assaulted her. Images that looked like them yet didn’t.

“You gotta go to a real comic store to get the good ones but my manager is a fan so she always keeps a few in stock.”

“Where are the Avengers?”

The teen looked confused. “I’m not sure what you’re asking? It’s just a comic. The Avengers aren’t real.”

“Are we in New York?” Shuri laid the comic on the counter, picking up another.

“Hey, you okay, miss?”

“What state is this,” she said more firmly.

“New Hampshire. Do you need me to call someone for you? You don’t look so good.”

Her eyes darted around, heart rate picking up. The attendant called after her as she raced out the door. She needed to get to New York, to the Avengers Tower, and make contact with the real Jarvis, or rather Friday. There was no way Doom's reach extended that far.

She retraced her steps effortlessly, her innate sense of direction guiding her back to where she began. Dog Jarvis greeted her with a whine as she entered the house. The next hour involved going through every space in the house to gather anything that could be of use to her. Her search turned up a pair of car keys for a vehicle parked inside the garage, as well as a wallet filed with cash and credit cards.

Shuri showered and dressed, finding a closet filled with muted colored American styled clothing. Nothing like the vivid colors and bold designs of her Wakandan wardrobe.

She was in the garage and about to enter the car when Jarvis whined and sniffed her hand trying to get her attention. She hesitated getting into the car as a thought occurred to her. What if he wasn’t a Doom-bot? What if he was just a cute little dog and she was about to leave him for hours with no food or water to sustain him until pod-person Tony came back? Jarvis whined again as if to confirm her thoughts.

He followed her back into the house and into the kitchen. An empty water and food dish sat on the kitchen floor. Shuri filled the water dish and Jarvis rushed over to lap up the fluid.

“Sorry, boy. I guess you were thirsty. I bet Doom-bots don’t get thirsty.” She scratched behind his ears.

A bag of dry food was inside the pantry. She’d discovered it during her search earlier. She filled the food dish until it spilled over onto the kitchen floor then got a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with more water, placing it too on the floor. Duty fulfilled she went back to the garage, Jarvis leaving her to it, content to have his meal.

Inside the car, Shuri found the garage door opener clipped onto the driver’s side sun visor. However before she pulled off she made quick work of disabling the GPS and navigation system in the event that it was the only way to track her. Without GPS she’d need to rely upon another method to get to her destination. Opening the glove box produced a laminated state map but something else tumbled out as she removed the map. A glass vial half-filled with a glowing purple substance. It rolled onto the passenger’s seat and stopped its journey in the seat’s crevice.

Shuri picked it up, holding it to the light. Without any label telling its contents she knew what it was. The fluid was identical in appearance to what the heart-shaped herb produced when prepared. There was even an aura of energy that emanated from it, detectable to those sensitive to such things.

Placing it in the cup holder for the time being Shuri opened the garage, light flooding in, blinding her in its intensity.

oOo

The light that entered as the garage door opened coincided with lids rising from slumber. Instead of a paved drive, Shuri’s vision shifted into a bright light hanging overhead. She was lying prone, no longer sitting upright in the seat of a car.

“What?”

The light spun like a Dora Milaje ring blade cutting air before slowing to a stop bringing clear focus. She made to rise but couldn’t. Her wrists were restrained at her sides. Her ankles tethered as well. Her body urged her to blink to encourage more focus but Shuri was terrified of shutting her eyes for even a moment. Eventually, things evened out and she could see that the light shining down was being held in the hand of Tony. A penlight.

“Princess. How many fingers am I holding up.” His voice was clear, professional.

“Three.” She said, voice croaking. “Why—why—w,” but she couldn’t fix her tongue to form a whole sentence.

Tony shushed her gently. “It’s alright. Everything’s okay. Deep breathes. One after the other.”

She followed his instruction and as she did she found clarity slowly returning, the edge of hysteria becoming further away.

“How did I get here?”

The gentle expression he looked down at her with shifted into a more strained look. Like he was watching a train wreck that he was powerless to stop.

“And where is here, Princess?”

She knew the answer he wanted to hear and was alert enough to respond correctly. She raised her head as far as she could first and looked around. A hospital room.

“Shield Facilities in upstate New Hampshire,” she said, dropping her head back to the bed.

Some of the tension eased from his face. “That’s right. Can you tell me who you are?”

She licked her lips, suddenly desperate for a glass of water.

“Dr. Princess Brown...but that can’t be right. We were married? I remember a dog. Jarvis.”

Tony’s expression changed once more, eyes filling with faint moisture. “That’s right, sweet pea. Do you remember what happened?”

Shuri closed her eyes now. When she opened them she was still tied to the bed and Tony still stood over her.

“I was driving. I don’t remember anything after that.”

“You had an accident. Thank God you weren’t badly injured.”

“But I’m here. With my sanity in question.”

“Princess you—you took something before driving that hurt you. Up here.” His fingertips grazed her temple. “You’ve been a patient here for over four months. So far, today has been your best day. You’ve never remember so much before.”

_Four months? Bast, had she really been a captive for that long?_

Staring into Tony’s glassy eyes Shuri realized she couldn’t be so certain that she hadn’t had chunks of her memory erased or altered if Doom was able to move her with such ease. She closed her eyes again, wishing this nightmare would end.

“Tony, I want to go home.”

A ragged in-draw of breath and then two drops of water slashed her hand. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know that the water was his tears. His next words were laced with emotion, cracking as he spoke. So much so that it scared Shuri how thoroughly her friend had been altered.

“Oh God, I’m trying, baby. I’m trying so hard to get you well.” Broad fingers combed through her hairline. “But we’re just not there yet.”

Shuri hated the tortured look he was giving her. Hated what Doom had done to one of the men she respected most in the world. One of the strongest men she knew.

“Dr. Stark. We’re ready to begin.”

Tony turned his back to the nurses who entered the room at that moment, wiping at his eyes quickly and composing himself before turning to face them.

“Thank you. Setup the equipment to the left of the gurney.”

Shuri watched them wheel in a cart caring boxy equipment she was clueless to name.

“What is that?” she asked Tony, not taking her eyes off of the nurse as she plugged in the tech and began unraveling cords.

“Totally painless procedure. This will be your second round. We’ll put you to sleep for a little bit and when you wake up I’ll be right here.”

“What is that?” This time there was the beginnings of panic in her voice.

“Electro-convulsive therapy. I believe it’s what’s allowed you to regain some of your memories. We’ve tried so many things, Princess. This is one of our last resorts.” 

S huri pulled at her restraints, growling when they didn’t give even a little. He wanted to electrocute her.  By Wakandan standards, it was beyond barbaric. According to him, they’d already done it once. 

“You can’t—I don’t want you to do this, Tony. I’m better. You said so yourself. Tony.” She said his name with more command when his face became stony, determined, and he started sticking electrodes to her forehead and temples. Twisting her head away was useless. He completed his task nimbly. 

“I’m right here. I won’t leave you. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. This isn’t right, Tony.” Shuri struggled harder, pulling so hard on the restraints that they cut into her skin. “I’m not crazy! This isn’t right!”

Her arm was held tightly to the bed by one of the nurses and she watched in horror as Tony eased a syringe into her vein.

“This isn’t right…th,” she insisted more weakly as the sedative began to have its effect. 

All of the fight drained from her. She melted into the bed, head rolling towards Tony.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up. I promise.” He said more but his voice began to fade away, like fog blown across a field. 

oOo

“Princess...” 

Shuri blinked, fighting to open her eyes against the bright light.

“Princess Shuri. You must wake up. The Queen Mother is expecting you.”

“Ayo?” Shuri’s eyes focused on the young Dora Milaje guard standing at the door to her chambers.

Dressed in full ceremonial Dora Milaje raiment, Ayo sucked her teeth and shook her head.  Shuri’s heart soared.  _She was home. She was free of Doom._ She smiled so brightly it hurt her cheeks. 

“It is your coronation day and you are still abed. What has you grinning so when you are over an hour late for the biggest day of your life?”

Coronation day? Only the ruler of Wakanda was coronated.  She was not the eldest. T’challa was.

“Where is my brother?”

Ayo gaped at Shuri, shocked into silence for a moment before her voice issued a soft reply. “The king is dead, my princess. You defeated him in ritual combat.”


	3. Chapter 3

The breaking of a bowl. Fractured upon the pristine marble floor. What it used to be, only a fading thought in the minds of those who beheld it before the fall.

That’s what it felt like.

T’challa was gone. Dead.

By her hand.

Shuri crumpled and howled the moment her disbelieving eyes laid hold of her brother’s body lying lifeless, his once-vibrant earth rich skin ashen now, cold and apart from the living. The perfume of the burial wash filled the room. Shuri’s cries filled the wing of the palace where the former king lay in state.

No word or touch could bring comfort. Her heart felt like a crushed and broken thing. Grief taking hold of her like a mother clinging to a runaway child. Her dearest friend was gone.

The Queen Mother did not try to pull her away from where she knelt face down at his altar. In fact, she had not once shown her face since her daughter was taken to the former king. Shuri had no memory of the challenge that resulted in her becoming the ruler of Wakandan and her brother a corpse. His cold flesh under her fingertips felt real enough. The pain in her heart too. Did her mother now hate her just as much as Shuri hated herself?

She beat her fist against her breast, throat aching with the pull of animalistic sounds her broken heart demanded. Thumping harder did nothing but solidify her loss. Her chest hurt from the abuse. Nightmares produced a psychological effect, not a physical one. She wasn’t dreaming. _Bast, she wasn’t dreaming._

Shuri ignored the urges from the elite Dora who remained, encouraging her to put on a brave face and complete the coronation ceremony.

She’d give anything for this to be a dream. Anything. Insanity was better than this. Being imprisoned by Doom was better than this.

“Brother. I’m sorry.” It was a litany. Repeated over and over, like it could revive the eternal slumber he was in. Her eyes closed upon hot endless tears, exhaustion catching up with her. If she could close her eyes and die with him she would. Slip past the void and join him in the ancestral plane where all the black panthers before them dwelt.

The floor pressed hard like ice into her knees, sticking to exposed skin with a numbing bite.

_She’d never hurt like this before._ Squeezing her eyes shut, Shuri shuddered on a sob. The dark haven of her eyelids more welcome than the source of her sorrow. _Never felt hurt like this._ _Not when her Baba died. Not when…_

_when…_

_..._

“ _...princess. My princess. My **queen**...mine...”_

_It was so cold. She drew in a breath and took in the entire winter, shivering even as a body nestled close to her, warmer than the air that surrounded her yet colder than any flesh she’d felt before._

“ _Please...please...” Begging felt natural. The right thing to do when faced with an unconquerable adversary._

“ _Did I not tell you?” Hands take hold of her. Shifting her, moving her in the way he likes. “That you would beg?”_

_The unmistakable feeling of cruel male hardness ripping past the barrier of her innocence summons a strangled cry._

_Why had she been so sure of herself? Why had she been so arrogant?_

oOo

When her eyes opened this time it isn’t to the vibranium and gold heavy funeral pyre of her brother but to the multi-colored twinkling lights of a Christmas tree. She was no longer in Wakanda nor was she in the expensive suburban house where she’d woken up as Tony’s wife. The room was much smaller, occupied by furniture that didn’t match. Windows with beat-up blinds and no curtains, and an almost anemic looking plastic Christmas tree and Tony, moving newspaper-wrapped packages with various colored string bows under said tree.

She was so happy to see him and be free of the nightmare of T’challa’s death that she hopped up from where she lay on a couch and darted over to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest. His arms came up and about her waist, pulling her hips to his and making Shuri aware of something protruding and hard between them.

“Merry Christmas.” Tony’s voice held a smile.

Shuri slowly pushed back from him, looking down between them. Her eyes widened at what she saw. Tony bent down to kiss her very round pregnant stomach.

“Merry Christmas to you too, baby,” his warm breath caused tingles where it landed.

A bubble of wonder sprang forth as Shuri felt a soft flutter of movement in her stomach before a foot-shaped lump appeared on her stomach, moving briefly then disappearing. Hand trembling, she placed in on the exact spot where the lump had been. Another lump bumped her palm. A baby. A tiny knee or elbow—or whatever, poked from inside her in greeting.

Tony kissed her stomach once more, reverently. Lovingly.

“We’re having a baby?”

Her befuddled question drew a puzzled look from Tony. “You’re the one having the kiddo. _**Thank God**_ **.** I, however, will take full credit, and all that entails, for putting our future heartbreaking bun in your oven.” Tony squeezed her hips gently before stepping away to press a button on an ancient-looking CD player. He came back to her seconds after a song started, taking her hip in one hand and her opposite hand in his other.

“It’s not exactly Christmas music but--” He turned her in a circle, moving to the beat of the music. “Every day with you is Christmas for me brown-eyed girl.”

_...in the misty morning fog with all our hearts a thumping and you, my brown eyed girl…_

Tony pulled her close, leading her with smooth movements as Shuri struggled to get her bearings. Moments ago she was kneeling at her brother’s dead body, racked with sorrow and longing for death only to be snatched away and now she was being held by Tony with gentle care as they danced to a springy song about a brown-eyed girl.

And just like T’challa’s funeral, this too felt real. The baby rolling with more enthusiasm in her belly, thanks to the music, didn’t feel like a delusion.

She ducked her face into Tony’s chest, breathing in his scent. It was like a warm dry blanket after getting caught in a freezing downpour of rain. A banquet table laden with food after weeks of not eating. The relief she felt was in equal measures with the confusion and terror of suspecting that perhaps something had happened to her mind. Nothing made sense—and all of it felt real.

Up was down and down was sideways.

She let out a sob, burying her face deeper into Tony’s secure embrace.

“I didn’t think Van Morrison was that bad. I’m sorry. Don’t cry. We can put on the Motown Christmas album if you’d like.” He stopped dancing to comfort her, stroking her back and hair and making low shushing sounds.

“He’s—not dead,” was all she was able to get out, caught between a sob and hysterical laughter. She said it again when his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Of course the baby’s okay. Oh, sweetheart, you’re just nervous that’s all—and hormonal. I’m right here with you and I won’t let anything happen to you or the baby. Okay?” He held her face in both hands, green eyes boring into hers with fierce intensity. _Green? Tony has brown eyes._ But this wasn’t her Tony. This wasn’t Iron Man. She dismissed her observance as just one more match stick in a barn full of oddities.

Shuri nodded, breathing deeply to still the storm that had begun brewing within her.

In this place, real or illusion, T’challa wasn’t dead. That’s all that mattered. She pulled Tony into a crushing hug, not able to get as close as she’d like due to her belly. He kissed her forehead, murmured some inconsequential thing and Shuri felt a quiet peace take over. Cheek resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart under her ear a soothing rhythm, she felt safe. The twinkling Christmas lights chasing away the shadows of wherever she’d been before arriving here.

“I don’t want to leave this place.” It was a confession to herself more than it was a statement meant for his ears.

Tony kissed her head again. “That’s good because I have no intention of ever letting you go.”


	4. Chapter 4

She awoke in Shield Facilities, disconcerted from wherever she’d previously been. It felt like the cold sterile hospital might be the starting point of what was genuine. It was the only reality where she was told that her mind was as damaged as she was beginning to suspect it was.

“There was a baby.”

She was no longer kept in the padded cell. They moved her to a room with a large caged window that allowed the natural light from outside to stream in. It was four days since the last reality shift. The longest she’s been in one place. During each of those days Dr. Stark—Tony, came to sit with her and share a meal. Sessions, he called them because he would encourage her to speak about her ‘memories’ and the shifts. It was just treatment.

They sat across from each other, two styrofoam trays of half-eaten food between them. There was a strained sadness pulling Tony’s face into shadowed angles. He shifted his shoulders, crossing his arms across his torso, the telltale sign of someone subconsciously distancing themselves. That’s what their interactions amounted to. Tony bouncing from distancing himself and also trying to draw her closer.

“Yes.” A small answer laced with enough pain to fill a large room. He looked like he was going to say more but wouldn’t.

He told her that he had the burden of confirming her missing memories more times than he could count. Telling her over and over again things he felt should have flowed naturally from her damaged mind. She only spoke with him about the reality shifts that involved him. Speaking of the Avengers or Wakanda was only ever met with disappointed eyes and more ‘treatments’.

“I don’t remember what happened. Will you please tell me?”

He shook his head, eyes unblinking and locked on hers, before words followed to match. “No.” He huffed out air through his nose, tucking his lips inside his mouth. “No. We’re not there yet.”

“And what’s ‘there’.”

“The place where we talk about him. We’re not there. Just leave it alone, Princess. I’m not ready.”

She didn’t want to leave it. She’d much rather explore the path he wanted to avoid. Their _son_. Something within her sat up straighter at the thought of a child between him and her, recognizing that truth lay at the end of the road Tony would rather not journey. She could feel it within the marrow of her bones. In some whole place that was untouched by madness.

There _had_ been a baby. And now there wasn’t.

She would leave it be for now but she knew that if anything were to make sense again she would have to get him to talk about her dreams—no-- not dreams, but memories of their son.

“You ready for a little exercise? Let’s take a couple of laps before bed.”

Of course. Their nightly stroll.

Tonight the ward was quiet. Tony brought her dinner much later than usual which meant by the time she was finished most of the patients were tucked away behind the closed doors of their rooms. Doors locked.

The hard heels of Tony’s shoes clicked over linoleum. Each step she took was without sound. Thick socks with gel ribbing on the soles were the only protection her feet were allowed. Here her feet were soft. Not worn over with calluses from years of walking barefoot around Birnin Zana. Just one of the many minute things that gave credence to this reality being more than an illusion.

“You’re making such progress I was thinking it might be time to move off this floor. How does that sound?”

It sounded wonderful. The closer she got to ground level, the closer she was to leaving this place.

“When will I get to go home?”

He was always checking her perception of where she was so it was no surprise when he answered her question with one of his own.

“And where is home, Princess?”

Her answer was without hesitation. “With you.” Because he was the most real thing in everything she’d seen and experienced. The one constant light. A comforting anchor. “I want to be where you are.”

She meant it. She wanted to be where he was because when he was with her she felt cherished and safe. Tony was invested in stopping her mind from slipping to those other places that were far too confusing and dark. Walking with him down the quiet hall of a mental ward, him keeping pace with her instead of the other way around, was a tempting peace. There was no death to tackle. No war to fight. No enemies lurking.

At her words he turned his head to give her a longing look, his hand half turning to hers before he thought better of it and rested his hands in the small of his back. He rarely touched her though she’d caught many moments when it seemed like he wanted to.

“I have something for you.”

She stopped with him.

“You always did like giving me gifts,” she said, recalling memories that shaped and slipped like moving clouds. A bracelet covered in diamonds. A teddy bear holding roses.

“If you asked I would give you this world and make all its people kneel at your feet.” They stood directly under one of the fluorescent lights that lined the ceiling. At this angle, the light cast shadows making his eyes appear nearly black. “Although it’s not the world, it is round…ish.”

He pulled a piece of fruit from his lab coat pocket and held it out to her to inspect. Shuri took it, marveling at what appeared to be an apple so golden that it looked artificial. The skin felt like the texture of any other apple, but it was shiny and reflective, mirroring her awe back to her.

“This is beautiful, Tony. Is it real?”

“Why don’t you taste it and see?”

The strangeness and beauty of the fruit wasn’t its only novelty. She swore it pulsed in her hand for a second before becoming still, emanating a pleasant warmth. Suddenly she felt the overwhelming desire to bite into it and see if it tasted as appealing as it looked. When she did the sweetness of that bite caused her to moan, it was that delicious, but just as she swallowed her mouth was filled with a stinging bitterness that made her gag on the bit going down her throat.

She coughed until her eyes watered and when she was done it struck her that Tony hadn’t said a word to her throughout it. He was eerily silent as he observed her distress, emerald eyes unblinking.

She looked down at the bite in the apple before stretching it back to Tony. He took it and tucked it into his lab coat pocket.

“That was awful. I think you got a bad one.”

“They’re an acquired taste I hear. I didn’t think you’d react so poorly.”

“You try it and tell me how great it tastes.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“You've never tried one?”

Her question amused him enough to draw out a chuckled, “Why ever would I?” The entire exchange was odd. Why would he give her the fruit if he’d never tried it? Something significant had passed and she was wholly clueless as to what it was. Their walk ended when Tony escorted her back to her room with the promise that they would meet tomorrow for another session.

She lay in her bed replaying her meeting with Tony. The mattress beneath her was so thin she could feel the springs under the almost nonexistent cushion pressing uncomfortably into her back. The room was better than the padded cell but she wouldn’t be grateful for it. Not when she remembered the comfort of the bed she’d shared with Tony.

She wished that he had stayed longer. Whenever he left she felt a lingering emptiness that called for his return.

As if her thoughts alone had willed it, she could hear the lock of the door turning before it gave way to a slowly widening crack, Tony slipping in as silently as a shadow. His white lab coat was gone, as were his glasses. He held up a finger to his lips to quiet her before he pulled the sheet that served as a blanket back and slid into the tiny bed next to her.

Shuri sighed in contentment when he wrapped strong arms around her and molded his body behind hers, tucking her head beneath his chin. Where she had been wide awake replaying her day before he came, a sleepy peace settled, making her eyes feel heavy. She curled a hand around his forearm and squeezed.

“I love you.” It was a rumbled whisper that warmed her heart.

“I know.” She whispered back.

“I don’t think you do. Not really. I loved you from the moment I first saw you. You don’t remember but I don’t expect you to. I took one look and I knew that you were mine, princess. Do you want to know what you told me when I introduced myself?”

His voice was soothing, a hint of bittersweet and humor threaded within. She nodded.

“You told me that you weren’t impressed and that I should consider washing my hair more.”

“I said that?”

“You did. After that, you threatened me in the most delightful display of verbal violence I’ve ever heard. I was double smitten, you can understand.”

She could almost recall a memory of her doing just that but she couldn’t make it stay long enough to fully formulate. The edges were frayed and unraveled completely when she tried to grab it. Tony recalled the unreachable memory with fondness but she couldn’t imagine a romance blossoming from such a rocky beginning.

“How long did it take for me to come around?”

He answered her question by kissing the back of her head, holding her in silence until she spoke again.

“What happened to the baby?” It was a gamble. He might ignore this question just like her last but the question ate at her, begging an answer.

The arms holding her tightened. She could feel the catch in his breath. He held it for long moments before expelling air and emotion, a slight tremor in his hands as he squeezed.

“Please,” she pleaded. Maybe knowing would fill the void and make her whole. “Tell me what happened.”

She thought he’d treat her to more silence but after a swallowing sound and a tick of quiet, he responded.

“I was very foolish. I thought that you were strong enough to handle it all but... I never should have left you alone. Our son died and...”

They were finally speaking about it and it felt as if the room had grown several degrees colder after Tony stopped talking. Even the warmth of him seemed to dim, though he was still pressed against her. His body felt colder, like cool stone, hard and merciless. Dread filled her as she continued to press for the truth.

“How did he die?”

“You killed him.”

Those three words struck her to her core, rippling shock and pain like lightning striking ground. Her muscles tensed and she made to sit up but he wouldn’t let her go.

“How?”

“I’ll say it in terms you can understand in your current state. You willfully aborted our child because you didn’t want to have my baby. If you had waited but another month he could have survived outside your womb. I named him Narfi. He was beautiful.” There was wavering in his voice.

Her breath increased as she tried to envision the picture he painted. It wasn’t true. She would never kill a child, much less her own.

“This is another delusion.” She concluded.

“Of a sort, but not in the way you’d like to believe.”

“I would never kill my baby.”

“You hated me enough to. He was a monster to you. He wasn’t a baby in your eyes. An alien parasite, you said. But don’t worry, I don’t blame you any longer. I was unwise in my dealing with you. It was a harsh lesson you taught me. One I don’t plan on repeating.”

He kissed her head again, lips roaming lower like ice skating her skin, arms keeping her limbs firmly secured tight to her body. His words confused her as much as his actions. The deep hurt she’d heard as he spoke belied the tender kisses he placed on her neck. Kisses that first seared with heat then chilled with an unnatural cold. Why was he so cold?

Her breath puffed out like fog in the moonlight streaming through the caged window.

His grip on her was almost painful as she weakly struggled at first then put up more of a fight when it became clear by the firmness prodding her back what he intended.

“Tony, you’re scaring me.” He would listen. He always listened.

Frigid crushing hands pushed her down into the mattress as a masculine body that was just as cold and brutal rose above her. She panicked, some sleeping recess of her mind rebelling at the familiarity of the position and the fear it drew out. Her eyes closed as she slapped futilely until he’d pinned her down, wrist on either side of her head.

“I didn’t do it.” She wailed, still refusing to look at him. “I didn’t kill our baby. I didn’t do it.”

His face bent down to hers, lips to ear, breath icy against her ear when he spoke.

“Of course you did and look at how you suffer for it.” His voice was velvety smooth. Polished and enticing and decidedly not Tony’s.

Her eyes sprung open to meet green ones. It wasn’t Tony’s face looking down at her though. As she darted around his features studying the man who pinned her with so little effort, all of the pieces started fitting together, with slow clicks. Memories came rushing back with such speed her head throbbed painfully.

“All of this. This hospital, your inability to gain a grip on reality. It all comes from what you did,” he said.

She shook her head in denial, even though it hurt to do so. A hand just as pale and beautiful as the face above her grabbed her cheek to force her to look at him. She flinched at the deathlike feel of it. He was inhumanly cold because he wasn’t human.

Dark hair fell like a curtain around his face. There was no denying who he was, even as her eyes filled with tears blurring her sight.

_Loki._

He stared at her intently as she was forced to remember it all.

_Thor said that technically Loki was his brother but Shuri was quick to remind him that this Loki that the Asgardian had a soft spot for was not the Loki of their timeline. That Loki had died. This Loki was from a timeline where he had none of the redeeming experiences that had shifted their Loki closer to the hero side of the spectrum and far away from the villain he once was._

_This Loki was all villain and he enjoyed proving it. Why he didn’t return to his own timeline and stop causing mischief in hers was a mystery._

_But Thor was more optimistic than Shuri. He missed his brother and his death had dealt a greater blow to the thunder god than any loss before or after. The chance to have Loki back made Thor blind in ways Shuri was wise enough not to be. She had no familial connection to color her perceptions._

_Rescuing Wanda from Doom’s clutches led to an unexpected find. Wanda wasn’t the only captive being held in Doom’s fortress. The Latverian ruler had not only managed to imprison one of the most powerful Avengers but also alternate timeline Loki, a testament to just how formidable Doom was._

_It was Shuri who stumbled upon the otherworldly prisoner. Instinct warned her that she should leave him where she found him, free Wanda, and get the hell out of dodge without becoming entangled in whatever drama Doom had courted by capturing the king of Jotunheim._

_This Loki wasn’t an ally. Freeing him would be more foolish than heroic._

_Against everything in her that screamed she would come to regret doing so, Shuri had released Loki and in return, he had proceeded to make her regret that decision with every fiber of her being._

_Thor insisted that if the Loki of their timeline could change then this Loki could as well, with the right motivation. When Loki made his obsession with Shuri known, Thor dismissed it as harmless and possibly the hopeful catalyst for reforming him. Tony and Bruce were the only ones who fully understood how much danger Shuri was truly in. They rightly saw that it wouldn’t blow over. Loki wouldn’t just move along after her repeated rejections._

“You...raped me.”

“I’m your husband. Having you is my right.”

Shuri shook her head, even as the memories flooding back gave proof to his words. There had been a wedding on a frozen planet, the only guests, frightening red-eyed giants who kept her from escape when she tried to flee.

“I never wanted to marry you! You tricked me.”

“I challenged you and you accepted, brilliant girl. A thing which you love more than anything else. You lost and I won. Had I lost you would not bemoan your victory.”

Did she accept? God, she had. She’d thought she could win, was arrogant in her abilities. No one was smarter than her. No one could solve a problem as quickly and efficiently as she could. She remembered smirking at him thinking she was finally going to be rid of his attentions once she solved his puzzle. Just as she should have left him in Doom’s prison, she should have walked away from his challenge. The shock of losing was nothing compared to the shock of suddenly being whisked away to Loki’s frozen homeworld and locked away just as surely as Loki had been by Doom.

He did this to her. This was a game to him. He was playing with her the way he loved playing with Thor and anyone else who was unlucky enough to gain his animosity. A cruel comeuppance because she wouldn’t love him back.

“Is this my punishment?”

He looked saddened by her question, as if the monster that he was had a heart.

“I would never damage your mind. It is one of your most alluring attributes. The methods you used to end our child’s life were not suited for mortal use. That’s why you’re fractured now. I’m trying to heal you, though I’m sure you’ll continue to paint me the villain.”

“It’s what you are!”

She whimpered as the grip he had on her wrists tightened, his jaw clenching.

“Well, then you must join me in it, my love.”

_On a stone table beside the massive bed of the frost giant king sat a bowl filled with Idun’s golden apples. The only brightness in an otherwise colorless room filled with various shades of gray. The fruit was hard to come by. Idun wasn’t known to part with them willingly but the king was also a prince of Asgard and former king of it, where Idun was still just a subject and therefore subject to her rulers._

_The golden apples of the gods wouldn’t grant immortality, only He could do that, but they did give longevity and health to those who ate them. Asgardians were raised on the water the tree grew from so they had no need of the fruit. Frost giants were an ancient race that was birthed from the beings who’d planted the tree Idun tended. They were just as long-lived as their Asgardian cousins._

_It was mortals who the golden apples changed. So he fed the fruit to his bride in hopes that it would heal the damage she’d caused in her attempt to leave him by the only means at her disposal, death._

_It broke his heart that she felt death was preferable to a life with him. It crushed him further that not even love for their child had swayed her. Yes, he had forced it on her but she wasn’t the first woman to become a mother in such a manner. Frigga had loved Thor and then later her adopted son. Hadn’t Odin gained Thor in the same way Loki had Narfi?_

_Loki had gone through much to make the princess of the most powerful kingdom on Earth his bride. He had no intention of losing his prize and despite her cruelty, he found he couldn’t love her less. He’d help her recover even if he had to feed her the apples bite by bite, using every trick he could muster. The effect of the fruit couldn’t be forced. The one who consumed had to do so of their own free will. So he delved into her madness, weaving himself into memories, true and false, just to get her to take the thing that would ensure she would never be successful at leaving him or harming another one of their children._

_He stroked his hand over the globe of her belly, soft brown skin stretched taut and rolling with the movements of their daughter. Her face contorted, gripped in the throes of a dream orchestrated by him. He kissed her brow and her face smoothed._

_She’d learn. He’d make sure of it. And when she finally figured out that letting him love her was better than the alternative, maybe the apples would have done their work and he would release her from her stasis. He could wait. She’d eventually see the light._


End file.
